110 
AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST 
[March, 
Pig, 8. —A COASTING SCEN E. —Drawn BY JR. E. Robinson .—Engraved for the American Agriculturist. 
Coasting'. 
It is as natural for a child to slide down a hill as for 
ducks to go into the water, or turtles to get on a log 
when the sun is shining, and get off very suddenly again 
when there are signs of danger. Boys, and girls too, try 
all summer to slide down something, if only a cellar door. 
But the old sloping cellar door has largely gone out of 
fashion, and with it has gone much juvenile fun; in the 
absence of the cellar door the youngsters take to some¬ 
thing else, if only a dirty bank, and wear out theirclothes, 
their mother’s patience, and no small part of the bank 
itself, in their endeavors to have a slide. They will get a 
board and put it where there is some hope of a ride down 
its too often splintery surface; and getting their little 
wagon on it will go down with a shout and a smash.— 
Children are creatures of motion, and anything that makes 
motion easier is hailed with delight. Snow is just such 
an aid to the free movements of the child, and it is not 
necessary for me to say that it is the joy of their winter 
life. If a well boy can be kept in the house without con¬ 
siderable effort when the snow has come, and the rolling 
banks along the fences are crusted over with a coat as 
hard and smooth as ice, he is a different boy from any I 
ever saw or ever want to see. If the average boy can be 
kept from sliding down those crusted snow banks on his 
boots, as shown in fig. 1, p.109, some very strong measures 
have been used, or the boy was born in the tropics and 
he does not know what snow is for. The shoemaker 
does not want any such boys around. The desire to slide 
being bom with the child, let us see some of the contriv¬ 
ances with which he accomplishes his purpose. In fig. 2, 
p. 109, is the simple, round-ended board, which may be of 
almost any length. A couple of cleats are nailed across it 
to serve the double purpose of keeping it from splitting 
and the rider from sliding off. There are certain objec¬ 
tions to this coasting vehicle which those who have tried 
it will understand. If the snow is soft it does not go, 
but buries itself; and when the snow is hard and rough 
it is “rather uncertain.”—Figure 3 is the “slew’’made 
of two barrel staves set a few inches apart and fastened 
by cross-pieces with a strip of board upon these, running 
lengthwise of the staves, and making the seat. The 
“ slew ” is a low, broad runner sled, which will go either 
end foremost, and (when the hill is icy) sideways as well 
as any way; hence its name.—The Jumper , figure 4, is 
made of one stout stave, to which a bit of scantling one 
foot long is nailed, and upon the upper end of the scant¬ 
ling a board for a seat is fastened. This is not an easy 
thing to ride, as there is nothing to hold on to ; and to a 
new hand, if the hill is steep, it is a jumper which will 
sometimes leave them behind. The shovel must come 
in somewhere, and let it be here, figure 5. This kind 
of coasting is not recommended, and many a child 
that has practised it remembers how much better it 
would have been for him if he had only left the shovel 
Fig. 5.— COASTING ON A SHOVEL. 
alone. The Toboggan is an Indian sled, and is much used 
by them in Canada for hauling their traps, pelts, etc., and 
also for coasting. It is made of 14 -inch stuff 5 to 8 feet 
long, bent up in front like the dash-board of a sleigh. It 
is braced by several cross pins, and kept in shape by cat¬ 
gut strings, as shown in figure 6.—The sled that I had 
the most sport with was made like the one shown in fig- 
nre 7. The runners were cut from “natural crooks.” 
The beams and knees all one piece, fastened to the run¬ 
ners by wooden pins passing through the rave, and fit¬ 
ting into half-rounded grooves on each side of the beams. 
This is probably the best sled for the farm, when it is 
often convenient to draw a heavy load. In coasting it 
has but few equals, especially if well shod. In the large 
picture, figure 8, the artist has given us “The old 
school house on the hill.” It is doubtless the hour for 
noon recess, the day is a fine one, and all hands are out to 
make the most of it. Some are building a snow fort, or 
defending one already made, and others are skating on 
the pond to the right beyond ; but the most of the chil¬ 
dren are having a good time with their sleds on the hill¬ 
side in the foreground. There is the large sled with the 
two girls in front and the boy to guide it behind. The 
boy who will give the little ones—too small to go alone— 
a ride on his large sled is doing that which will be re- 
Fig. 6. — THE TOBOGGAN OR INDIAN SLED. 
membered. Kind acts, like kind words, seem to live 
forever. Many boys prefer to have their sled all to 
themselves. There are such, no doubt, in the picture. 
Some of the boys sit upright and guide with their heels 
in front, while others prefer a horizontal position, and 
use the toes behind for steering. The older and more 
daring boys have fixed up a “Cajulluck” or “Thank ye 
marm,” a bank thrown up in the course of the slide, so 
that when the sled strikes it the whole load is thrown 
into the air and comes down some distance beyond. It 
would seem that two boys have found the jumping a 
little serious, and they, and the sled too, have suffered 
from the toss into the air. One poor fellow has evidently 
hurt the back of his head, and is not getting as much 
sympathy from one of the other boys, who came through 
all right, as the conditions of the case demand. But there 
is another lad coming down at full speed, and if he does 
not look out he too will be piled upon and added to the 
wreck. What would these sports of childhood be with¬ 
out now and then an 
overthrow—a bruise 
and a break down 1 
They are the sore 
spots for a while, 
but they become the 
bright ones in the memory of younger days.—If there 
was no toiling up the hill in order to go down again—if 
there were no rough places to go over, and bad places to 
shun, this life would not teach us the grand lessons of 
personal responsibility and individual power--that it 
does now. We must remember the influence that “all 
work and no play’’—and “ all play and no work ” had on 
our young friend Jack.—But there goes the school bell 
and the scene must change. The play out-of-doors must 
give place for the work that is within the school-room. 
The horse is anxious to go on, but not so with Uncle Hal. 
Fig. 7. 
